


Destroying Every Bet I've Made

by payneberry



Category: Glee
Genre: Coffee, F/F, New York City, Summer, Texting, Underage Drinking, Vomiting, Waffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/payneberry/pseuds/payneberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had New York and she had NYADA; she should be happy. But here she sat, in the middle of the Lima Bean, alone without a boyfriend and a best friend who wouldn’t answer her messages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destroying Every Bet I've Made

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Sufjan Stevens' "All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands"

Rachel stared out the window down at acres of unnamed Pennsylvania farmland 20,000 feet below. She tried to count the number of cows, and then horses, but really from this high up they all looked the same. 

The past ten days had been perfect. Her dads has sprung for a room at the historic Waldorf-Astoria and even treated her to a day at the hotel’s spa – perhaps as a congratulations for being accepted into the top musical theatre program in the country or perhaps to help her cope with the end of her relationship. Either way, she had certainly enjoyed her fifty-minute Impériale relaxing massage.

Stepping onto the NYADA campus had been like a homecoming. Walking the halls where so many famous performers had gotten their start made her want to break out in song. Finally, she was in a place where doing so wouldn’t draw stares or shushing. Still, she settled for a light humming of “New York, New York” as she followed her tour guide closely through the school’s largest theater. 

She had made a few friends too: bonding over which of Barbra’s roles was the most iconic and the results of the recent Tony Awards. 

The few extra days they had stayed allowed them to see nearly everything she had missed on her first two trips to the city. She and her dads had wandered through the Museum of Modern Art, pausing dramatically in front of each Picasso and Warhol before each giving their interpretation of the piece. They had spent nearly a whole day in Barney’s: lunching at Fred’s and perusing the shoe selection before she finally decided on a pair of Marc by Marc Jacobs sandals. 

All that was behind her now. She was headed back to reality – to Lima – and to Finn. 

Her New York trip had been such a whirlwind that she hadn’t given much thought to him or the breakup or the fact he had joined the fucking Army. But now, as she sat aboard American Airlines Flight 4626, Seat 3D, it was the only thing she could think about.

What would happen if she saw him in the grocery store? Or if he answered the door when she went to bring Kurt his souvenir Barney's cufflinks? Were they on speaking terms? Did he want to see her? Did he miss her? 

She twirled her former engagement ring around her pinky, before pocketing it. 

How was she supposed to go from engaged to single in ten short days?

***

She had been home for approximately one hour and fourty-seven minutes when her iPhone buzzed signifying she had a new text massage. It was from Blaine.

_**< 15:21>** Lima Bean? 7:30? I can’t wait to hear all about your big city adventures._

_**< 15:22>** Sure? Is Kurt coming? I have a gift for him._

_**< 15:38>** No. It’ll be just the two of us. I hope that’s okay._

_**< 15:40>** Yeah, can’t wait!_

_**< 15:46>** Great. See you then. :)_

She found it unusual for Kurt to not accompany Blaine to the Lima Bean. Maybe he was just busy or maybe he was in DC with his dad. Rachel immediately felt guilty for not knowing. He was supposed to be her best gay, after all.

She quickly scrolled to his number in her phone.

_**< 15:59>** Hey, I’m back. We should catch up soon._

She turned on some music and returned to her unpacking, setting aside a tower of dirty clothes to put into the hamper, attempting to distract herself from her very quiet phone.

The entire Les Mis soundtrack played through once and she still hadn’t received an answer. She traipsed downstairs to have vegan takeout with her fathers, snatching her phone – just in case.

Yet it remained quiet throughout dinner and during her post-dinner vocal routine. Before she knew it, hours had passed and it was time to get ready for her coffee date.

Rachel arrived at the Lima Bean twenty minutes after seven, ordering a soy chai latte for herself and a medium drip for Blaine, before swooping in and grabbing the two recently vacated armchairs in the corner. She pulled out her phone and placed it on the table between the chairs, right next to her coffee cup. 

Still no messages.

She was lightly sipping her latte when Blaine walked through the glass doors. When he saw her raise her hand at him enthusiastically, he made his way over to the nook where she was sitting. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching to give her a hug as she stood to great him.

“Hi, how are you?” she asked savoring his friendly embrace. 

“Okay. But who cares about me? Tell me all about your trip!” he demanded enthusiastically. 

She sighed dramatically. “It was magnificently perfect,” Rachel gushed. “New York is perfect. NYADA is perfect. It was all just… perfect.” 

She spent the next twenty minutes detailing her trip, getting lost in the memories. She could smell the grass as she described the picnic she had with her dads in Central Park and she could feel her heartbeat pick up when she gave Blaine a very detailed review of the matinee showing of _Once_ they attended, down to the snacks she had. 

“Wow, Rachel,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Who knew there was a better match for you out there than Finn?”

She chuckled despite herself, tracing her index finger along the rim of the lid on her cup. “I guess you’re right. I should probably send him a thank you card for dumping me.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, exasperated. “Just think about how happy New York makes you – how seeing your name in lights is going to make you feel. Maybe it was all for the better.”

Rachel shrugged. “I guess.”

“It is. You’re just too close to it. Give it time,” he reached out a hand to stroke the back of hers comfortingly. 

“Thanks. I just don’t really want to talk about Finn right now,” she sighed. “What about you? How’s Kurt? I haven’t heard from him in like a week.” She glanced down at her phone subconsciously. 

“He’s fine. He’s fine. Things are… fine.”

“That doesn’t sound too convincing, Blaine,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Talk to me. I’m a very good listener and my advice is five star.”

Before he could answer, a ring came from his pocket. He pulled it out, checking the ID. “Speak of the devil,” he said, before hitting the answer button with his index finger. “Hello, darling.”

All Rachel could hear on the other end of the phone was a muffled voice. She tried to control herself but she couldn’t help straining to hear what Kurt had to say.

“I’m just home, doing laundry and pressing my capris. What’s wrong?”

Rachel was wide-eyed as he nodded seriously in conversation with Kurt. All she could do was sip her drink and attempt to look disinterested in the telephone exchange. 

Blaine sighed, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He looked at Rachel with pleading eyes. “I love you too.” 

He hung up and quickly jammed the phone into his pants, getting up and gulping down what remained of his coffee.

“I’m really sorry, Rach. I have to go. Emergency. You understand.” He walked over and placed a heavy kiss on the crown of her head. “It was really great catching up. We’ll talk soon,” he said, as he headed for the exit.

Rachel sat there, astonished, looking at the door for several minutes after he had left. What had just happened? Why did Blaine just lie to Kurt about where he was and whom he was with? 

She sighed and dropped her head against the back of her chair. She had New York and she had NYADA; she should be happy. But here she sat, in the middle of the Lima Bean, alone without a boyfriend and a best friend who wouldn’t answer her messages. 

Suddenly her phone buzzed and she moved to answer it hopefully. It was a message but it wasn’t from Kurt. It seemed to be a mass text from Noah.

_**< 19:51>** Party @ my hosue fri got akeg bring $5_

She sat in the coffee place for a few more minutes, swigging the dregs of her latte and considering if this party was something she should concern herself with. She was, after all, headed for New York. She was leaving Lima and McKinley behind; did she really want to spend a drunken evening with them?

A few moments later a pair of smartly dressed college students came over and eyed her empty cup, whispering to each other. She got the hint and tossed her cup into the trash as she pushed through the glass doors and into the warm June night. 

When she got into her car, she rested her head on the steering wheel, choking back tears.

***

The rest of the week went by quicker than expected. Rachel found that she fell into her daily routine rather swiftly: waking up at 6am, an hour on the elliptical, breakfast with her dads before they left for work, shower, vocal exercises, all before she left to teach ballet and tap to the girls at the JCC summer day camp.

Her routine kept her busy – and kept her mind from lingering on that gnawing feeling in her chest and that little voice that whispered _you’re alone, you’ll always be alone_. 

Evenings were a bit harder. She had her dads and her Barbra on DVD collection to occupy her time, but eventually her dads kissed her goodnight and went to bed and _The Way We Were_ really only stirred up that familiar sinking feeling. 

When she crawled into bed, much later than she usually did, she tossed and turned, wondering if Finn was thinking about her like she was thinking about him. She thought about Kurt; she felt guilty that she was going to live her dream (except the whole part that included him) and he was staying in Ohio, stuck on pause. Eventually, when she did fall asleep, her pillow was lightly stained with tears.

***

By Friday night she decided to face her fears. She knew both Finn and Kurt would be at Noah’s party; she was determined to put on her showface and prove to the both of them that she was fine without them.

She spent an hour and a half primping and picking out what to wear. In the end she decided on basics: a floral print summer dress and her new sandals, with her hair pulled back in a headband. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard.

Rachel decided to bring along a bottle of gin from her dads’ bar to be a gracious guest and because she wasn’t really that fond of beer. Her dads might be upset with her when they found out but she knew they would eventually forgive her. 

She arrived at Noah’s at 9pm sharp as per his follow up text and, of course, she was the first to arrive besides Sam who was helping Noah tap the keg in the kitchen.

They both greeted her with hugs and asked about New York and she responded with an “okay” since she knew they were only asking to be polite. Noah took the bottle of liquor from her and placed it with the hodge-podge collection of other spirits on the counter. The full bottle of Bombay Sapphire stuck out amongst the peeling labels of Burnett’s, Everclear, and Old Crow. 

Slowly, other guests began to arrive. Mike and Tina came through the door arm in arm. Mike waved over at her before stepping over to grab a drink from the keg the boys were standing around. Tina came over to where Rachel sat on the corner between the table and the wall and gave her a tight embrace.

“Tell me all about New York! I still can’t believe you’re going,” Tina gushed.

“I know, I still can’t believe I’m going either,” Rachel beamed. “It was really spectacular. It felt like home, honestly.”

“That’s so wonderful. I hope I’ll be able to join you next year and you can show me around.”

“I would really love that,” Rachel replied sincerely as Mike came over and handed Tina a red cup full of frothy beer. 

“Me too,” Tina said as she took the cup and then Mike’s hand. “I’ll see you later.”

Suddenly it felt like the crowd had spontaneously multiplied. The music was loud and Rachel could hardly pick out a face she recognized. Did all these people really attend the same school as she did for four years?

A few of the New Directions made there way over to her, just to say hello, but none of them stayed for long. She watched longingly as couples stood, their foreheads together, smiling and laughing. Sam and Mercedes were dancing; Tina and Mike were holding hands and chatting with some girls Rachel remembers seeing on the volleyball team. Even Quinn and Artie seemed to have kindled something tonight. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, laughing drunkenly at nearly everything he said.

Rachel picked at the bowl of pretzels that sat in front of her. She scraped the salt crystals off the hard sticks, not really interested in eating. 

She spotted Kurt across the room with Blaine. They were huddled close together when they both looked over at her at the same time, making Rachel suspicious that they were talking about her. Blaine gave an awkward wave and Kurt smiled halfheartedly before taking Blaine’s hand and walking out of the kitchen, into the living room. 

Feeling overwhelmed and a tightness in her chest, she grabbed a drink off the counter and went outside onto the deck. Below a few of the football players were playing beer pong, the crowd cheering and laughing loudly at a tall brunette chugging his cup. 

When Rachel realized it was Finn, she downed her cup of mixed whatever, coughing on the burn in her throat. She didn’t even see him come on and he clearly didn’t care enough about her to seek her out.

Refusing to cry in the middle of so many people, Rachel marched back inside and grabbed the bottle of gin she brought which was now only about a third full. She emptied it into her cup, cursing to herself when she spilled a bit. Tossing the drained bottle into the trash, she made her way to the stairs that divided the kitchen and living room. 

She sat about halfway up the stairs, peering through the banister spindles into the living room. Rachel took a large gulp of the pure gin in her cup managing to only sputter a little on the strong taste. 

Eventually the potency faded as she nursed her drink and watched the partygoers from afar. How could she feel so lonely in a house entirely filled with her peers? 

The night began to turn fuzzy as she swallowed the last of her cup. Random football players and cheerleaders moved around her as she stumbled through the party making her way down to the living room. In an attempt to steady her balance she leaned against the couch, where a couple she couldn’t recognize were making out. 

Rachel began to feel her stomach turn on her. She swayed heavily in her place, attempting to convince herself she would be all right. Hazily the room seemed to spin around her when she felt that familiar sensation in the back of her chest. 

Running back up the stairs, she knocked on the bathroom door and entered it hastily when no body answered. She knelt in front of the toilet just in time to empty the content of her stomach. 

She flushed and leaned up against the tub, sitting on her heels, afraid to leave the three-foot radius of the toilet. Her head was pounding, he throat was on fire, and her mouth tasted like sick. Resting her head on edge of the bathtub, she started to cry, when a loud bang came from the door.

“Whoever is in there better hurry the fuck up because I gotta pee,” a familiar voice yelled through the frame.

When Rachel didn’t answer, the doorknob turned and Santana entered, almost tripping on her own feet. 

“What are you doing, Berry?” she asked when she saw Rachel sitting on the floor. Rachel moaned a halfhearted answer when Santana said, “I don’t care, just move you feet.”

When Santana pulled down her underwear and sat down, Rachel jolted and attempted to stand, before she fell back against the tub.

“Relax. You’ve never seen a girl pee before?” Santana asked as she reached for the roll of toilet paper.

“It’s not really something I make a habit of, Santana,” Rachel mumbled, covering her eyes with her hands. 

“Well you can stop. I’m done,” she said as Rachel heard the toilet flush. Rachel peeked between her fingers, to ensure that Santana was actually decent. “Want to tell me why you’re sitting in the bathroom at this epic party?”

Rachel shrugged. “I got sick,” she said. “Plus no one really wants me here anyway.”

“Please,” Santana rolled her eyes, “you’re the one acting like you don’t want to be here. I saw you sitting in the corner with your drink and judging everyone around you.”

Rachel was taken aback. “T-that’s not what I was doing,” she stammered. 

“Yeah, well it sure looked like it to me. You sit there with that look on your face – like you think you’re better than everyone and cry when other people don’t approach you,” Santana said, fixing her lip gloss in the mirror. 

“Santana…” Rachel began but she couldn’t find the words to follow.

“Look, you probably are better than everyone here, Berry,” Santana said, turning around and propping herself on the sink counter. “But I don’t know why you resign yourself to parties like this if you’re not going to immerse yourself with these plebs.” 

“It’s not about that,” Rachel said. “It’s Finn and--” 

“Ugh, Rachel, can you just get over that sasquatch already?” Santana rolled her eyes. “When are you going to realize that your future is bigger than him? I would know. My future is bigger than this whole fucking godforsaken state,” she said before adding, “And yours is too.”

Rachel blinked at the girl, her inebriated brain slowly processing what she said. “Santana, I—” 

A rhythmic tap on the door interrupted her.

“Santana?” Brittany’s voice called through the crack, sounding like she’s bouncing from foot to foot. “Are you in there? You said to come get you if we’re starting strip poker again and I need you to pass me the cards under the table so I don’t lose my favorite bra again.”

“Yeah, I’m coming right out, Britt,” Santana replied, hopping down and adjusting her skirt, which Rachel had just noticed was incredibly short. “I’ll see you around, Gayberry,” she said, as she opened the door to find a very energetic Brittany on the other side. 

Rachel was getting dizzy watching Brittany through the door, her neon striped tank whirling around her. 

That was the last thing she remembered before waking up in her own bed, her sandal still on her feet and her purse wrapped around her neck. She looked up to see the neon from her alarm clock inform her that it was 3:08 before she passed out again.

***

Her alarm clock woke her at 6am; she chucked it at the wall and pulled her pillow up over her head, attempting to block out the sunlight that has made its creep through her window. She fell back asleep for what seemed like minutes when a pair of hands began to shake her awake.

“Wake up, Hobbit,” a loud voice called, making her head pound.

Rachel managed to sit up, untangling herself from her comforter and the dress she had fallen asleep in.

“Santana?” she questioned. “What are you doing in my room? Why are you here so early?” Rachel rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hands, squinting. 

She received a laugh in response. “It’s almost noon, Berry,” she said, pulling out her phone to prove it. She chuckled again at Rachel’s appalled face. “Relax. And I bought you breakfast. Well, I guess technically its lunch now.” She held up a takeout box and a tray holding two medium coffees.

“Can we settle on brunch?” Rachel said, groaning as she reached for the coffee Santana offered. 

“If you must,” Santana conceded, looking around Rachel’s room. “Wow, your room is even more Holly Hobby that I expected. And I expected a lot considering you dress like a sexy preschooler.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and then winced at the dull throb in her head. “Is there a particular reason you came over here or did you just aim to insult my wardrobe and bedroom décor?” Rachel asked, bringing the coffee cup to her lips.

Santana shrugged. “I just thought you could use some hangover food. You were pretty wasted last night,” she said, opening the box of food revealing a stack of waffles covered in syrup. “Don’t worry,” she said, seeing the reservation on Rachel’s face. “They’re vegan.”

Rachel felt a smile and a strange sort of contentment overtake her as she forked at the waffle, syrup dripping onto her bare leg, before stuffing a large piece into her mouth.

“Thanks,” she said, genuinely, her mouth full before wiping up the sticky substance from her thigh with her fingers and licking them clean.

“Wow, you’re revolting,” Santana laughed. “And here I am thinking you’re this super tidy uptight bitch. First you’re sprawled across the Puckerman’s bathroom and now this.”

Rachel shot her a dirty look and made a noise of disgust. “Shut up,” she said when she managed to swallow. 

“Hey, it’s fine. We’ve all been there,” Santana soothed. “At least, I know I have.”

Rachel nodded. “So did you just bring me brunch to be a Good Samaritan or is there another reason?” she asked taking another sip of coffee.

“Oh, I just wanted to ask you about your trip. I need you to tell me all about the Big Apple before I claim it in September.”

Rachel looked at Santana wide-eyed. “You’re going to New York too?” she asked a little too enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, and you’re going to be one of the lucky few who knew me when,” Santana said smugly. “I was actually going to bring it up yesterday but you were clearly in no state to recount or remember anything.”

Rachel grimaced. “Was I really that bad last night?” she asked earnestly. “I don’t even remember how I got home.”

“Trouty drove us all home. He was the DD. He took you, me, Britt, and ‘Cedes,” she replied simply. “You really don’t remember anything from the car ride?” Santana asked.

Rachel shook her head, confused. “No, why? What did I do?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged before checking her phone. “I gotta go. Britt’ll be getting out of cheer practice in like a minute,” Santana said, standing up and grabbing her bag off the foot of the bed.

Rachel startled. “Okay, I’ll see you around, I guess,” she said, baffled. 

“Yeah, I’ll see ya,” Santana responded as she walked out Rachel’s bedroom door.

Her eyes darting around the room, Rachel wondered what she had done to cause Santana to leave so abruptly when her phone gave an abrupt buzz. She spent a full minute looking for it before unraveling it from her bed sheets.

Seeing the name on new message she gasped. 

_**< 12:57>** Do you want to get dinner tonight?_

_**< 12:59>** Yes. Breadstix? 8pm? I have a gift for you._

_**< 13:02>** See you then._


End file.
